Schizophrenia

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Yesterday, I woke up at 9 a

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Yesterday, I woke up at 9 a.m. and drank a cup of instant coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. Less than 30 percent of elderly Koreans are satisfied with their lives on the peninsula. This doesn't surprise me in the least. Koreans complain all the fucking time and are often so dour that they decide to end it all by leaping from their windows. True. The ROK is certainly not paradise, yet it's far from terrible. There's not a lot of crime. The food tastes good. And nobody is starving in the streets. So enough with the constant bitching, already.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.

She said, "Your Mexican stepfather is out walking the dogs."

I said, "That's great. So his heart seems to be doing OK?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "We won't know for another four months. The doctor gave him some powerful pills that often make him sick."

"Yes, but at least he's alive. And even though he's 85 fucking years old, the old bastard still manages to get out of the house from time to time. Exercise is important."

Mom nodded in agreement. "I wish I had the energy to go for a walk. Yet I spend most of my time cleaning this fucking house."

"I understand completely. A woman's work is never done."

"Do you have any plans for today?"

"I'm walking to church with Rice-Boy Larry, and then we're going to eat pork soup at one of the local restaurants."

"Sounds fun."

I smiled at her. "Things could always be worse. At least I'm not in the Congo getting ass-raped by out-of-control sodomites."

Even though it was Sunday, I decided to write a new blog post. Lots of the fuckheads and retards who read this piece of shit were complaining because I missed a couple of days. But have no fear. My lack of activity was simply one of those things that happen from time to time. The internet went out, and it took a couple of days to get the technology back to normal.

At noon, Larry and I hoofed it to church. The pastor is still delivering sermons on the Book of Isiah. He's going through the tome chapter by chapter. We've been reading it for 63 weeks. The pastor talked about the Jews in America. He says that they're rich because they've been blessed by God. He also claims that The Tribe controls both global media and finance because of the Lord's blessing.

I looked at Larry and smirked. The leader of our congregation is Korean and has no clue that his words would be deemed offensive by western standards.

On the walk home, my smartphone began to ring. I answered, but nobody was there.

I said, "Did you hear that?"

Larry said, "Hear what?"

"My fucking phone was ringing."

He sighed heavily. "Your phone wasn't ringing."

"So I'm having auditory hallucinations now?"

He sighed again. "It was coming from the gas station we just passed. And it wasn't your ringer. The station is playing classical music."

"Thank Christ. I thought I was losing my mind. I couldn't handle being a schizophrenic. It's bad enough that I have to wipe my ass ten times a day at my advanced age. A bout of mental illness would fucking crush me like a soggy grape."

We stopped at a restaurant on the way home and ate a huge bowl of comja-tong. Translation? Spicy pork soup with vegetables and kimchi thrown into the broth. Normally, I hate kimchi with a passion. But somehow the chef at this particular eatery makes it taste delicious. I also consumed two bottles of soju while stuffing my fat face. A good time was had by all.

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